Alone Together

A week later Taylor trudged into her office, sniffling into her tissue and collapsing into her seat. She’d been under the weather for a couple of days now, but it was nothing but a cold. She was never one to take too much time off work and so here she was, dutifully filling out paper work on her latest projects even though she felt like cow dung.

Shakily running a hand through her hair she pulled Patrick’s file in front of her and checked on the plans, seeing if what they accomplished was in line with the time line previously formed before starting work, and stopped when she heard a throat being cleared at her door.

Her assistant Deanna smiled softly at her, walking in and standing opposite her desk. “You look like shit,” she remarked honestly, nodding towards Taylor’s reddened nose and watery eyes.

Taylor chuckled and rested her chin on her hand. “You’re so nice to me, Deanna,” she laughed, finishing off Patrick’s paperwork and pushing it aside. Her friend merely shook her hand and cradled the papers she held closer to her chest.

“You need to go home and take a day off, Katherine,” she said, switching to formalities. Taylor sighed and nodded, rubbing her nose on a clean tissue.

“I suppose you’re right. But I really can’t, I have so much work to do, and today’s the last day at Patrick’s house—“ she started, smiling as Deanna rolled her eyes and walked around to her side of the desk, grabbing all the paper work and adding it to her pile.

“I’ll take care of it. You’re no good when you’re ill…and drippy. Besides, you deserve a break, Tay,” she said, patting her head and walking towards the door. “I’ll call Mister Stump and tell him the situation; all they’re doing is packing all the tools and all anyway, and the paper work should be a breeze—you’ve told me everything for it anyway. Just get some rest, sweets.”

Taylor nodded and slipped on her jacket, buttoning it up and grabbing her bag. “Headed out Taylor?” one of her employees asked as she walked by. She weakly smiled and nodded.

“I’ve got a date with my couch, Joan. Seeing as I’ve stood it up the last five hundred times, I think it’s time I went with it this time.”

--

The people under Taylor’s employment dutifully packed up their supplies, admiring the gardens and patio they had helped create in the previously dull back yard of Patrick Stump. Joe Trohman watched with interest from inside, peering sneakily out of the blinds in the kitchen. “They move so fast! Like little ants,” he commented.

Patrick shrugged, “They’d probably be faster with Tay here. She doesn’t really like to waste time, does she?”

Pete sat up a little on his seat at the counter. “Taylor isn’t here?” he asked, clearing his throat. “Um, where is she?”

Again Patrick shrugged. “Home, I guess. Her assistant called earlier saying she went home sick.” He eyed the bassist suspiciously. “Why do you ask, mon frere?” he asked with a smirk.

Pete scoffed and stood up, tossing on his coat and grabbing his keys. “No reason, ma souer,” he sniffed, ignoring Patrick’s indignant glare at being called ‘sister’.

“Where you going then?” Joe smirked, bobbing his eyebrows up and down devilishly. Pete punched him lightly on the arm and shrugged, waving goodbye and closing the front door behind him.

“Are we ever going to get this album started?” Andy wondered.

Soon he found himself in a small flower shop with numerous colorful flowers surrounding him, their sweet aroma filling his nose and making him feel like he might sneeze. The sales people tried luring him to the best flowers, but he decided to brave it picking out the most beauteous of the bunch, settling on a bouquet of Calla Lilies. He had no idea what their secret meaning was, but he was sure Taylor would know. Their delicate long, white petals always made him think of misty lakes in Irish moors, and he was sure she would appreciate their beauty as well as he did.

He wasn’t sure what inspired him to buy the flowers, or the soup, or the get well soon card, and he sure as hell wasn’t sure why he was driving to a place he’d only briefly been to once, but soon his car was parked in front of Taylor’s apartment complex. The building seemed to loom over him and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he looked up at the load of bricks. He could see numerous balconies and on one he saw a well-cared for garden. He smiled, knowing that was the one he was looking for.

Standing in the elevator his eyes darted over to the portly woman standing next to him, raising an eyebrow at her drunken stare. She grinned at him, revealing rotten teeth and gaping holes. “I like bananas,” she croaked, her dull eyes twitching as she observed the tattoos visible on his arms.

He flashed a quick smile as the doors opened to his stop, and as he stepped out nodded curtly, “I like toothpaste.”

When Pete reached the door to Taylor’s apartment he shuffled the get-well gifts around in his hands to reach out and knock, nearly dropping the burning broth onto his foot as he stumbled back to catch the envelope to the card. He could hear her shuffling feet inside, sliding away the locks and cautiously opening the door. Her eyes were wide and confused when she saw him, but still she held open the door, resting her head on it in an innocent and naive way that made his insides churn.

“Pete? What are you doing here?” Taylor asked behind her snuffles, eyeing the gifts in his arms before locking her gaze onto his face. He felt his cheeks flush as he sheepishly grinned, holding up the items and shrugging.

“Get well soon, Tay,” he smiled.

--

Pete smiled at the vase of Calla Lilies on the table next to where he sat, looking down again as Taylor shifted her head in his lap. They had been watching The Princess Bride, the credits now rolling down the screen, and just before the terrors known as ROUS’s appeared to torture Buttercup and Westley, Taylor had passed out with her head on his shoulder. So as to make the placement more comfortable for both persons, he had moved her head onto the pillow in his lap, draping a blanket from the back of the couch over her lean legs and stroking her hair whilst cursing the damn Prince Humperdinck.

He could feel her cool breath tickling his fingers as he reached forward to adjust the pillow. Her lips were slightly parted, slightly chapped due to the dryness of the room, moving to accommodate room for air to pass into her mouth. She looked so peaceful, and the closer she cuddled into his side, the more his heart pounded so loud he was sure she would hear and wake up.

Suddenly the feeling of a buzzing erupted in his hoodie’s pocket, making Taylor shoot up with sleepy eyes. “Whas the rivaflaven?” she mumbled, looking directly at him and awaiting an answer. He merely smiled at her, brushing her hair out of her face and helping her to lie back on the other end of the couch. Stepping into the kitchen, he answered his phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe! How are you?” Ashlee asked, her perky voice making his heart rate increase by fifty. If she knew he were at Taylor’s…She already didn’t like her just because she wasn’t invited to her party.

“I’m good, how’re you sweets?” he asked, careful to not be too loud for fear of awaking the slumbering Irish goddess in the next room.

“Okay! Listen, I was talking to some people, and was wondering if you would be able to take the weekend off? I thought we could go away somewhere.” Her voice held fake hope, knowing he would cave in to her persisting and travel away with her to wherever she had in mind.

But for once, he surprised her.

He leaned on the doorframe and gazed into the next room, smiling softly as Taylor sighed and rolled over onto her back, the blanket bunching around her stomach and her hair frizzing around her face. “Actually Ash, I think I’m gonna be busy,” he said quietly, his heart pounding as Taylor’s eyelids fluttered, her breathing regulating and signaling she would soon awaken.

“W-what? What do you mean?” Ashlee stuttered, clearly taken aback.

“Just what I said. I’m busy. Maybe another time, yeah?” he said, backing up slightly and hovering over the counter. “Listen Ash, I gotta go, but we’ll talk later, yeah? Bye.”

“Pete—“

He turned his phone off and walked back into the living room, leaning over the back of the couch and watching Taylor as her eyes fluttered open, blinking the sleep away and struggling to focus on his face.

When she at last recognized him she smiled, relaxing into the cushions of the couch and reaching a hand up to him, resting it on the back of the couch. “Hi,” she croaked, covering her mouth with her other hand and laughing at her scratchy voice.

Pete grinned and stroked the fingers of her hand nearest him, linking them with his own and staring into her eyes. “Hey.”

--

“You seem…happy,” Patrick noted a few days later, observing Taylor with a questioning look as they ate their lunch. She poked her fork into her fruit salad, raising an eyebrow before bringing the harpooned grape to her lips.

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked after swallowing.

He shook his head and twisted his mouth in thought. “No. It’s just…why are you so happy?”

She stared at him blankly and shrugged. “I’m happy because I’m not sick and am sitting here having lunch with my very good friend Patrick,” she said slowly, her fork sticking into a piece of pineapple. He merely rolled his eyes and the two remained quiet, thoughtfully chewing their food and observing the people seated around them.

Taylor bit her lip and cleared her throat. “Pete came to see me,” she said quietly, staring down at her plate.

Patrick paused in chewing his sandwich and swallowed, his eyebrow raised as he said, “Oh? That was nice of him.”

She fidgeted with her napkin. “That’s gotta mean something, right?” she asked.

He groaned and rubbed his cheek. “Tay, are you serious? He was probably just being a good friend. Good friends visit friends when they’re sick.”

“You and the other guys never came.”

“We’re not good friends.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away, glancing out the window. The day was bright and warm, a perfect day for gardening, and yet she was not allowed to do anything of the sort today. The boys all insisted on her going to some museum with them instead after lunch. Joe had the other two with him searching for the perfect camera at that very moment for them to take pictures with, posing in all sorts of positions in front of the sculptures and paintings…especially in front of any nudes.

“You ready to go?” Patrick asked after paying the bill, despite Taylor’s protests for her to pay her way. She sighed and nodded, pushing back her chair and following him out to his car.

“Took you guys long enough!” Joe exclaimed as they met up in the museum lobby. He, Pete, and Andy had all ended up buying new cameras and were already clicking away at anything and everything within their sight, including an irritated museum employee and an old man with a twitch in his left eyebrow.

“Sorry ladies,” Patrick rolled his eyes, handing Taylor a map of the museum. “Shall we split up or walk together?”

“Either way is fine with me. Can we just go find some statues?” Andy asked, bouncing on the heels of his feet. Joe hollered in agreement and the two scurried off up the stairs, presumably to their fate of being kicked out. Patrick shook his head sadly and excused himself to actually enjoy the art, leaving Taylor and Pete alone.

He grinned at her and offered an arm. “Shall we go, Miss Barrie?” he asked in a deep English drawl, leading her into the first exhibit.

She smiled and held tightly onto him. “We shall, Mister Wentz.”

Taylor found herself actually enjoying herself. The art was beautiful—she found herself mesmerized by the soft brushstrokes of the paintings, carefully analyzing each detail, admiring the chiseled edges of each sculpture. And the company wasn’t so bad, either.

Pete lingered behind her, being more interested is observing her than the art. Every once in a while he’d pause and hold up his camera, taking silent pictures of her looking at the different objects lining the walls.

When they were in a marble sunroom with Greek sculptures and a single painting of a waterfall, he took the most breathtaking of all. The sun had been shining in directly over Taylor’s head, illuminating her and giving her the most angelic appearance. Just before his finger pressed down on the button she turned, looking back at him with a soft smile on her face.

He blinked after the picture was taken, staring at her in wonder. She glanced down at her feet and blushed, reluctantly bringing her eyes back up to his and beaming as a huge grin erupted upon his face. He lowered his camera and took a small step towards her, stopping immediately as Andy walked in. “Hey, Joe’s getting himself kicked out ‘because he touched some statue’s penis,” he said, raising an eyebrow at the pairs’ stares upon each other. “You guys ready to go?”

Taylor tore her gaze away first and smiled weakly at him. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s go,” she mumbled, brushing past Pete as she hurriedly walked out. Pete watched her walk away and did a double take when he heard Andy say something.

“What?” he asked.

Andy shook his head and patted his friend’s shoulder. “I said, you got it bad, man. Both of you,” he repeated.